On a recent trip to my local Glatt Mart—post-workout, fetchingly bedraggled—I ran into my friends (of course) who were also grocery shopping at 9pm for some reason.
During our mid-aisle schmooze, we checked out each other’s carts and shared our respective food staples.
My cart looked pretty LA that day, I have to admit, and it’s true that I aim for healthy and do a fair amount of cooking. But to keep things from getting boring, I spice up the ordinary with sauces. “Oh, have you tried these?” Daniella asked, walking into the frozen food section.
Of course I had heard of Dorot frozen herbs, but sauces?
The abridged version: I tried them, I love them, I’m telling you about them. Gluten free, sugar free, raw, yes! Plus, the way they’re packaged you can use some without the rest spoiling in your fridge. And most satisfyingly, they’re produced in Israel—at Kibbutz Dorot near Sderot, to be specific—so when you buy them you support the family and the land.
I’ve tried two flavors—so far, so delicious. I recommend. To your health!
Taking bets, taking bets now! Anyone want to wager how long I’ll be able to keep my plants alive?
I love the idea of gardening. I love freshly picked fruits and veggies. There’s nothing more decadent than visiting the orchards in Israel and plucking produce straight from the source. And I think to myself, “I want this all of the time. I want a keenly green thumb too. I could totally make it happen.” Yet tragically, duality exists between my ability to execute such a plan without executing my plants.
Grim track record be damned. Off I go to create a window into Israel through a window box of my own, soon-to-be overflowing with fresh herbs and a few sprightly flowers for a lick of color.
Problem #1: I do not have a garden. I live in an apartment.
My green-thumbed friend Roy once grew Momotaro tomatoes so gorgeous, they inspired me to give them a photo shoot of their very own. Roy noticed my interest and so gifted me with a window box on my birthday, even pre-installing it with…straw or squashed tumbleweeds. (I’m not sure what this stuff is, but it helps stop the water from completely leaking out of the bottom.)
Solution #1: I will employ said window box.
The unsuspecting victims in the top left are rosemary, basil, cilantro and Alyssium flowers. Be sure to free the roots before the planting like I did in the top right picture. This way, the plants can soak up all the water they’re allegedly getting. At the bottom, the window box’s ‘before’ picture.
Problem #2: I do not really like dirt or worms.
My mom, also gifted with a glorious green thumb, assures me I should face few wriggly critters atop an urban apartment building.
Solution #2: I shall persist and commit myself to regular manicures.
Rosemary, cilantro and basil in their new home. Alyssium will fill in the gaps, as we see in the bottom photo. And what Israeli-inspired garden would be complete without a flag to dance in the breeze?
Problem #3: I famously forget to water plants. (If only they would bark when they need something!)
I always feel bad for the plants I buy, for they face an uncertain fate. Perhaps I could install an innovative irrigation system like the ones Israelis creatively employ to make the desert bloom! (A bit much for a 2-foot long window box?) Alas, with only my watering can and forgetful memory to save them, my plants too often remain dry as the Negev.
Solution #3: I will set an alarm on my phone…and try to remember not to ignore it.
“To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” With any luck, this latest garden will be the seed of a new green-thumbed future that would even make the kibbutznikim proud.
Of course I had heard of Dorot frozen herbs, but sauces?
